


Oh Yes, Wait a Minute, Mr. Postman!

by Aimeztean



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, OC's are included for the sake of plot, Postman AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:48:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29010795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aimeztean/pseuds/Aimeztean
Summary: Akashi Seijuurou moves to the suburbs for his first year of university. In this quiet neighborhood, the last thing he expects is running to a high school acquaintance who lives nearby. Or for that acquaintance to have turned into an inexorably hot postman. Needless to say, he’s willing to take every chance to spark something between Furihata and him, but romance had never exactly been his forté.Meanwhile, local postman Furihata Kouki likes the company of his new neighbor Akashi Seijuurou, who is a little odder than he remembers him, but sweet. Everything would be perfect, if only he could let go of past feelings.
Relationships: Akashi Seijuurou/Furihata Kouki
Comments: 7
Kudos: 53





	Oh Yes, Wait a Minute, Mr. Postman!

“Oh Seijuurou-kun, the mail is coming in about 20 minutes! Could you please be a dear and sign for it when it gets here?” a voice rang up the banister.

“ Fujiwara-san and I are going to corner market shopping and it might take a while. “ A sigh and then a small, lighthearted chuckle followed. “Us old ladies just aren’t limber as we used to be!”

“Speak for yourself Sonoko! Eto-san from the grocers tells me I look more youthful everyday,” another voice preened.

“That’s only because he wants you to buy his radishes.”

“Why, you!-”

Akashi Seijuurou straightened up from his desk where he had been studying and adjusted his reading glasses. He twisted back in his chair and called back in a warm, firm tone , “Of course, Shizuoka-san. Leave it in my care.”

Shizuoka Sonoka smiled through her rounded glasses as she ushered out Eri-chan, through the doorway, who was grumbling. “Thank you, Seijuurou-kun. And again please, call me Ba-chan!”

Seijuurou smiled, “Of course, Shizuoka- basan. Please have a safe trip.”

He heard the door shut, and they gave their farewells as they left. Akashi leaned back in his chair and took the opportunity to take a momentary break.

The view of the sun through his window in front of him caught his eye and Seijuro couldn't help the smile tugging at his lips as he studied the scenery. Beneath the window lay a perfectly normal residential neighborhood, ordinary as can be. Small houses, done in traditional styles lined up in rows across narrow streets. Hints of greenery popped up in between spaces, as the residents of the neighborhood went about their day. Strolling by on a walk or supervising small gaggles of children that played on the sidewalk, clutching their yellow hats. Across the intermittent storefronts in the west lay a small park, with trees situated above a carpet of green grass, and home to a children's playground and- more of interest to Seijuurou- a basketball court.

He had never expected in a million years to one day be living in what equated to the most typical of Tokyo suburbs. It was a far cry from the palatial, yet isolating, grounds of both his mansion homes in Kyoto and Tokyo.

Akashi rested his head against his hand. To think that a single letter he had found while looking through his mothers album would have led him to rooming in a small room in the heart of this small Shitamachi neighborhood. Who could have known that that letter, would have resulted in him linking with his mother’s Great Great Aunt. Who had in turn been more than receptive to form a relationship with Seijuurou. And which had culminated in her offer to lend out her home to Seijuurou when had been accepted into his university of choice. 

Needless to say his father had _not_ been pleased by his decision “to lower himself by living amongst the lower class.” Thankfully he had long since stopped placing value on his fathers every command, and shrugged off the classist nonsense that spewed out of his father’s mouth with an internal roll of his eyes.

As long as he maintained his grades and kept up with his responsibilities in the company he couldn’t complain too much, anyhow.

As fate would have it Seijuurou found he enjoyed living in the neighborhood far more than he ever had in the mansion after his mother’s death. Shizuoka san was a kind, yet spirited woman who had first teared up when she saw Seijuurou, with a cry of _“Oh you look just like Shiori!_ ” as she hugged him tightly. He had frozen up, unsure of how to respond, but the warmth of this shorter, elderly woman with bright eyes beneath round glasses, had made him relax and hug back.

Much like Shizuoka herself, the neighborhood was warm, friendly, and welcomed him with open arms. He had been acquainted with many of the neighborhood’s residents, each more colorful than the last- from the tall, stoic Takada san who manned the Kakigori shop with his younger sister, the chic, college girl Mari, to Yamano-san the eccentric grocer, to the Nozaki’s whose eldest son was a mangaka.

A handful of them, especially the elderly residents, were able to identify him right away as his mother’s son, and then proceeded to fondly regale him with tales of his mother’s tomboyish youth.

_“Oh that Shiori! She was always getting into trouble with the neighborhood boys, when she visited your auntie over the summer. Climbing trees and running around doing flips, I swear she was more monkey than human sometimes! She especially loved to sneak into places she wasn’t supposed to on dares. Oh! But the best part was when she got caught, she never admitted to doing it! ‘It must have been someone else’ she always said. “_

_“Do you want to know what we always responded to that?,” Saito Fumihire, the retired elementary school teacher leaned in with a whisper with a twinkle in his eyes._

_“What?” Seijuurou couldn’t help but giddily whisper back._

_“_ Shiori-chan, there isn’t anyone else in all of Japan with that shade of red hair _!” he guwaffed out in chortles. And Seijurou couldn't help the laugh that escaped him as well._

_Fumihire-sensei leaned back on his plastic chair on the porch, with a pensive look, despite the small curl that remained on his lips._

_“It was a surprise when she became so ladylike and married that young master from that important family. Your auntie…. she never said anything, but it was obvious that she missed her dearly._

_“I thought we would never see her again after that.” Fumihire exhaled as he gazed at the sunset. “ But I’m glad I was wrong.”_

_“She came to visit again after the marriage?”_

_“No”. Fumhire smiled as the amber sunlight hit his eyes. He turned to face him. “But she came back in the form of_ you”

\---

Seijuurou rounded down the stairs fifteen minutes later to find a short note on the dining table.

_“Seijuurou-kun,_

_Kouki-kun normally does the route during the weekdays on his bike. Make sure to greet him when comes by- his family have long been acquainted with ours, and they have invited us for lunch with them this Wednesday. If there’s left over nishime in the fridge, offer it to him. I left the hanko next to the maneki statue on the mantelpiece._

_Don’t study too hard, enjoy your youth ,too!_

_-Oba-san_

Seijuurou took the note and folded it with care for safekeeping. Then he heard the trilling of a bike bell outside. That must have been ‘Kouki’, he took the hanko stamp and opened the door.

There a glorious sight graced him.

Akashi eyes widened and he couldn’t help but stare as the young man on a speeding bike toward him jumped over a pothole in a road. 

He was-

Rippling tan, lean muscles, accentuated by the short sleeved shirt the other worglistened with dewy sweat, held onto handlebars as he soared through the sky. Akashi gazed in awe at the _very tight_ khaki cargo shorts that hugged narrow hips and led down towards exposed lean, calves. 

The postman’s hat which matched the blue of his (equally tight) shirt, almost flew off the mussed dark brown hair which it sat upon. 

Seijuurou couldn't help but suck in his breath as he caught sight of the other’s face. The postman was, in a word-

Gorgeous. Simply, irrefutably, gorgeous.

With high cheekbones, and a sun kissed face that left small freckles over the bridge of a delicate nose, and thin brows set in a determined little furrow- not to mention wide brown eyes that glowed amber in the sunlight- he was stunning. 

A straight up knockout.

However in this moment, Akashi realizes three things in consecutive fashion.

1\. Despite the others appearance grinding his mind to a screeching halt for a moment, there was something almost _familiar_ about this man. He tries to recall a memory of a meeting, introduction, even a passing encounter, but for some odd reason all he recalls is the shape of worn white basketball shoes followed by the puzzling mix of guilt and confusion.

2\. The bike is going fast. _Too fast_. He notices the pothole in the corner of the sidewalk a millisecond too late. He starts to call out “ _Look Out!”,_ but cuts off when notices the white basketball shoes on the pedals. The boy turns his head at the sound, but his gaze turns to shock, once his eyes meet Seijuurou.

3\. The bike hites the pothole, and he hears a distinctly dog-like yelp. The same one that’s in his memories. Moments come to him, unbidden. The shivering of a player before him during his first Winter Cup, who had then promptly face planted onto the hardwood floor with a cry. The same trembling present, yet again, when the door to Kagami’s apartment opened on Kuroko’s birthday, only to be followed by that same screech, and, again, a fall. 

He remembers scolding Aomine when he had overheard the less than kind nickname Aomine had given one of the new Seirin regulars. And he remembers the small amount of smugness he had felt when Kuroko’s team, led by that same bench player turned regular who Daiki had unceremoniously nicknamed _Chihuahua_ , had beaten Toou in the semi-finals. 

He remembers the games they played together, and the small measures of the respect that grew between them as captains.

He remembers a boy, about his height, ordinary in every way- not the strongest, nor the fastest, or the tallest- except for the fire of determination in his eyes. 

They were never friends, never got to know each other that way. So the memory of him had long faded from Seijuurou’s mind during the stress of graduation, college entrance exams, and moving.

Except now he remembers. He remembers-

“FURIHATA-KUN!”

Seijuurou rushes over to the collapsed boy, feeling like an enormous idiot. 

Of, course. _Of course_ , they would meet again this way, Furihata-kun falling to the ground at the mere sight of him. _Because_ of him.

If he hadn’t been so busy ogling a boy he hadn’t recognized, _despite them playing three years of basketball against each other_ , it might have not ended up like this.

‘Like this’ being Furihata-kun splayed out on the ground, groaning with his bike at his feet.

“Furihata-kun, are you all right?!”

Furihata groaned and held his head. Jesus, that was so stupid.“Ouch”

He blinks, trying to fend off the pain. He starts to prop himself up, only to stop when he felt the pain in his palms. “I’m okay. Err. J-just give me a minute.”

A pale hand outstretches itself to him and he took it gratefully. He stands up carefully.

“Thanks,” he sighs, looking down, embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I swear normally I’m a better rider, but I just got distracted because I thought I saw-”

His eyes finally glance up.

“A-A-Akashi-kun?!” he yelps, jumping back.

Seijuurou smiles something awkward and guilty. “Yes, that’s me. It’s certainly nice to see you again Furihata-kun.” He instantly winces, “W-well not in these exact circumstances. But-” 

Furihata looks at him still wide eyed but now a touch curious, and Akashi can’t help to notice how _fit_ he is once again. The attraction comes back full force one he realises Furihata is also now a good head _taller_ than him. A flush starts to creep up his neck, made again worse by the fact he still feels guilty.

“You should come inside!” he says suddenly.”We should attend to your medical needs.”

Furihata squawks and tries to shake his hands,”N-no, Akashi-kun it’s really not n-necessary! You don’t have to, umm not for me. I-ill be fine! And your package!-”

Akashi turns on his heels dragging Furihata towards the inside of the house. His hand feels warm to the touch. He ducks his head ,making sure not to let Furihata catch a glimpse of his reddened face. Furihata follows confused, but without further argument.

Akashi quickly sits him down on one of the dining table chairs before claiming he’s going to fetch the first aid kit from the restroom.

He does fetch the kit, but Seijuurou also takes the opportunity to wash his face with ice cold water. He looks himself at the mirror and thinks to himself “ _Get it together, Seijuurou.”_

Was it a surprise that Furihata had blossomed so wonderfully over the past year? 

Yes, yes it was. Of course, it wasn’t as if he was ever _unkind to the eye_ , but even a blind man could see the stark difference between the boyishly cute Furihata of highschool and the alarmingly handsome man he was now.

Was his own attraction to Furihata necessarily a cause for alarm? 

Akashi thinks to himself for a moment. He decides it is not. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t ever been attracted to men before. He was quite aware of the fact, actually. It hadn’t just ever been intense to this degree. Normally he was able to tap down and suppress the emotions, until they eventually faded away. 

Something told him however it wasn’t going to be that easy this time.

He groans to himself and slaps the sides of his cheeks. All he had to do was act normal. Act normal around his old high school acquaintance, who may or may have not grown out of being terrified of Akashi. His high school acquaintance who, all in all, had grown into the most attractive man Akashi had ever seen.

He was Akashi Seijuurou. He could accomplish this, he could exchange pleasantries with Furihata and not scare him off by malfunctioning at the sight of him. He could do this. He would do this. He steels himself, takes a deep breath and walks down the stairs.

\---

Furihata Kouki was sitting at the dining table squirming nervously wondering what the hell was currently happening. He groans to himself. Why, oh why did fate make him embarrass himself of Akashi Seijuurou every single time they met?

It was bad enough that the mere sight of him had caused him to lose control of his bike. But then Furihata had to go and act like a rude idiot when Akashi was being nice and trying to help him up and treat his injuries. 

He feels the guilt weigh in his chest like a stone the longer he sat there. 

Clearly he had made Akashi uncomfortable with his behavior. Akashi, the guy who was normally so aloof and confident had been speaking slowly and his body language had been sort of awkward when he helped him up. Obviously he was trying to be nice in the face of witnessing something so embarassing, he probably was wondering why Furihata seemed to be made out of jellybeans the way he so often ate the asphalt while he was around. 

The worst part was that Akashi _had_ tried to warn him. He heard the initial cry of “Look out!,” right before he hit the pothole. But then his eyes had met those transfixingruby red irises and-

Okay. Okay Furihata thinks. This wasn’t worth losing it over. He takes a deep breath. _“Get it together, Kouki._ ” He wasn’t a first year high schooler any more than trembled at the sight of anyone stronger than him anymore.

Firstly, objectively, what Akashi had witnessed wasn’t that bad. Sure it was embarrassing to get caught falling off a bike. But hey it happened, right?

Secondly, Akashi probably just felt awkward because he was just trying to be considerate and Furihata had acted rudely. But as long as he apologized it should be okay. Probably.

Thirdly, and he can’t believe he’s just now realizing this. This is Shizuoka-sans house. Which means.. her newly moved-in nephew, _Seijuurou-kun ,_ the one his parents had invited to lunch this Wednesday, was probably him. _Akashi **Seijuurou**._ Of course, God, why hadn’t he realized that earlier?

So that means Furihata was probably going to try to have to get along with him from now on, given that two of them were now _neighbors._

Furihata sighs to himself, he can do this. Even if Akashi was the most intimidatingly amazing person he had ever known, he could still plausibly form an easy going acquaintanceship with him.

He was 19 going on 20 . He was older and more mature. He had a farbetter grasp on his own issues and insecurities now ,more than when had met Akashi for the first time years ago. 

He can do this. He can be (sort of) friends with Akashi. He can be normal around him. 

Even if… even if he was his ex-crush he hadn’t really ever gotten over.

The admission to himself brings back memories. Memories of a boy his age commanding the court like king. That mixture of fear and reverence his electrifying presence demanded. Dichromatic cat slitted eyes that bored into you, but paradoxically lured you in. Fire red hair that was so bright, it seemed inhuman.

Over time, his temperament had grown softer, warmer, more...tranquil, but his impressiveness still intimidated him. Could you really blame him?

In a word Akashi was, _well_ , perfect. It made it hard for others to get close to him, like an invisible bubble that kept the extraordinary in and the ordinary _out._ That didn’t stop Furihata from admiring from afar though.

Over time, once he was granted Seirin’s captaincy, things changed a little bit. Basketball meant they constantly had to face each other both on and off the court. And Furihata may have been a coward, but he was never the type of person to give up, even in the face of overwhelming odds.

He likes to think this sort of tenacity eventually gained him (just a little bit) of acknowledgement from Akashi, going by the respectful smiles and bows they traded before and after line up.

And the more time passed, _especially_ the longer he was captain, the more he realized just how truly impressive a person Akashi Seijuurou was for being the sort of person who both shone individually _and_ was still able to raise up others and bring them together. It certainly wasn’t as easy as it looked, that Furihata knew for sure.

So he spends the last year of high school, training, prepping for exams, and slowly, unbeknownst to him at the time, having his feelings towards Akashi turn from detached fear and awe to a more sort of genuine respect and admiration.

It all comes to a head a month after graduation. After the craziness of college admissions are settled, everything slots back to normal, and it’s the perfect time for subconscious feelings to rear their heads back in.

Furihata wakes up gasping one night after having an intense dream, images of wine dark eyes and the silken tones of “ _Kouki_ ”, still reverberating through his mind. 

It’s at that moment he realizes that there was probably a lot more than friendly appreciation when he was giving Akashi those _looks_ during their competitions over the last season. And that there was probably so much time you could spend thinking about the many admirable qualities of a fellow captain. And obsessively taking notes on them while watching recorded games. At the very least he know understands why Kuroko gave him an odd look when he had wrote “has a very nice smile” in Akashi’s profile.

So yeah, he had a crush on Akashi Seijuurou. A big, fat majorly hopeless one. Made even worse by the fact that he was literally never going to see Akashi again. 

He wonders what the point of even realizing this a month after graduation serves, besides this newfound insight into his sexuality.

So he takes the time to mope, obsess, retroactively realize some things. Before coming to the painful conclusion that his feelings were never really going to go anywhere, even if he had realized them earlier. 

The realization brings him some closure. It wasn’t as if they were friends. Or even more than acquaintances, really. And even in the _one in a billionth_ chance that Furihata confessed his feelings and Akashi somehow _reciprocated_ , it wasn’t as if they could last. They were just too unevenly matched after all. Unbalanced couples _may_ work in fiction and trashy romances, but they led to nothing but heartbreak and messy splits in the real world.

So Furihata comes to terms with his too lately discovered feelings. Buries them and lets them go.

He takes the summer off to go work on his grandparents’ farm. Takes time for self-reflection. Eyes a couple of more pretty guys and girls and reaffirm he is definitely attracted to _both_. Supplements his diet with more meat after having a dizzy spell due to iron deficiency. Hits a late growth spurt that has him grow several inches over the course of the summer (his newfound height, he grumbles, would have been a lot more useful during his last season of basketball). Takes time to get a local job as a courier for the postal service, and then finally comes out to his parents and brother who make him cry a little when they hug him and say they’ll always love him unconditionally.

So yeah. Furihata considered himself over Akashi.

Except today when he caught sight of those ruby red irises, beautiful and unlike any other and then promptly fell over his bike, only to then be picked up by an angel with that smooth, rich voice, he realized perhaps. 

Perhaps he wasn’t as over him as he thought.

**Author's Note:**

> *Chucks fic at the ten akafuri stans in my circle*  
> "Okay everyone have" *squints at smudged writing on palm of my hand regurgitated by my brain* "-akafuri postman AU."
> 
> Okay for real thoughs, this was inspired by me listening to Mr. Postman by the Marvelettes and thinking, "Wow, you know what would be awesome, an AU where Akashi thirsts for an oblivious Furi. And Furi who thinks Akashi is his nice, but occasionally weird, neighbor, slowly starts to fall for his weird highschool acquaintance who he used to have feelings for. 
> 
> There will be more parts to this. But this is mostly just two idiots pining for each other, while everyone in the neighboorhood gossips about them, and observes their lovelife like it's their personal telenovela.
> 
> ALSO PLEASE COMMENT. I am not above begging, and always have time to talk akafuri. Please comment even if it's just an "eh, it  
> was alright."


End file.
